


Ar Lath Ma

by kitogic



Category: BioWare - Fandom, Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Trans Inquisitor, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7153802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitogic/pseuds/kitogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jariel Lavellan is up yet again in the wee hours of the morning, devastated by bouts of dysphoria and self-hate. His Quinari lover comes and quietly comforts him.</p><p>It's pretty short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ar Lath Ma

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short angst and comfort thing I did because I love pain and suffering.
> 
> Also, I suck at titles. 
> 
> TW: Dysphoria

Quick breath in the darkness. A crushing pain in the center of his chest. Jariel didn’t even feel how cold the stone walls were against his back as he sat curled in the far corner of his bedroom, nor could he feel the icy mountain wind that battered his small, exposed body. His mind was elsewhere, far away and locked up tightly in the pain. Overwhelming pain, which was, mind you, not physical. Technically speaking, it had begun to physically manifest itself, but its origin was not that of a wound or a laceration. No, its epicenter was in his mind. He had been sitting there for what seemed like hours. He wasn’t sure. He had never been very keen on estimating the passing of time, especially not now in his agonized stupor.

  
He had tried to tell himself to calm down, that he was being childish and immature, but those fleeting thoughts had done nothing to sooth him. No, he wasn’t sure anything could sooth this type of pain; no salve or potion could help him now. Suddenly, a sharp burst erupted from his left hand and raced up his arm. He let out a choked sob as he clutched his shoulder, pitching forward. His damned anchor had chosen the absolute worst time to agonize him. Now he had that to deal with as well as the emotional pain. He hated this. He hated it all so much. Thick, hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and pulled his chin to his chest, curling up tighter. Maybe if he compressed himself the pain would stop. That was a stupid idea, but he didn’t care. The pain in his arm was white hot, causing him to see blotches of color behind his dark eyelids.

  
He was so overwhelmed by his situation that he didn’t hear his bed shifting and the surprisingly gentle footfall as a large figure approached. He finally felt something other than what was inside his head. A warm, large hand pressed to his shoulder gently. Before he knew it, he was being pulled into the firm arms of his beloved. He could feel the almost overwhelming heat that radiated from his lover’s body. His head rested against the broad chest, and through his stupor, heard a steady heart beat.

  
“You’re alright, kadan.” With Bull’s deep voice came a flood of relief. Jariel buried his face in the Tal Vashoth’s chest, screwing his eyes shut. He took in a trembling breath, and released it with a small, frightened noise. “I got you,” Bull said, his normally rough voice warm. The small elf forced himself to focus on Iron Bull’s voice, his warmth, his smell. He was here, he was safe. He knew nothing could hurt him while Bull was by his side. He took in another long, shaky breath. He was Jariel, and he was safe. He knew he was, but dysphoria driven panic scrapped at the edges of his consciousness. He could feel his bare skin pressed to Bull’s, his entire upper body exposed and he found it hard to claim air yet again. He quickly moved to cover his chest, stupidly worrying about being seen. If he had looked up, he would have seen Bull’s pained expression, and the sadness in his one good eye. The Iron Bull did not doubt for a second that the elf in his arms was his strong, handsome boyfriend, even if Jariel himself forgot. He knew how hard it was for him, just as it was hard for Krem every so often. Bull placed a gentle kiss on his kadan’s hair, then tucked his head under his chin. They sat like that for what seemed like hours, Jariel slowly letting Iron Bull cradle and calm him. Finally, the elf let his eyes drift open. He looked up at his vhenan, his light blueish purple eyes gleaming wet with drying tears in the moonlight. He took in every inch of the Vashoth’s face; the sharp pull of his jawline, how his dark, close kept facial hair beautifully framed his narrow face. He reached up and cupped Bull’s face with one hand, running his thumb over the scar on his upper lip. Bull leaned his face into Jariel’s touch, smiling gently.

  
“Have I told just how handsome you are, Jariel?” Bull said with a low voice that sent shivers up Jariel’s spine. “You could stand to say it more,” he responded with a small laugh, his voice hoarse from crying. They were quiet once more. Jariel didn’t take his eyes off of Bull for a second. He went back to studying him. His eyes wandered over his vistage, and he couldn’t help but linger his gaze over the empty socket where his eye once was. His hand slid up and he traced those scars as well. He was well acquainted with the story, how he saved Krem’s life without even knowing the young man.

  
“Something on your mind?” Bull asked, cocking an eyebrow slightly. His expression was warm and gentle in a way that only Jariel got to see. He loved this side of Bull. He was so soft, so earnest. It made his heart flutter in his chest. Jariel hummed quietly in response, continuing to caresses Bull’s face. Most of the toxic thoughts from earlier had faded, becoming dull and gray compared to the warmth in his chest that came from his lover. He didn’t know how Bull managed to do that; whenever he had an episode, Iron Bull would hold him quietly, sometimes whispering loving words so only Jariel could hear. And every time without fail, Jariel would slowly but surely come out of his stupor. This huge horned man that so many feared was his saving grace and the love of his life. The elf felt tears prick at the back of his eyes and he took in a trembling breath. The Vashoth’s expression changed, his brows furrowing together. “Kadan-?”

  
Jariel took Bull’s face and pulled it to his, pressing a fervent, yet earnest, kiss to his lips. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispered when he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to the Iron Bull’s. Jariel knew that he had said those words enough for Bull to understand him. He opened his eyes to find his lover smiling slyly down at him. Jariel looked at him with mild confusion. “W-what?” He asked, voice cracking slightly. He had no idea why he became so flustered. He had done far more intense things then simply kiss Iron Bull. “I love you, too,” was the simple response from the large man as he pressed a kiss to Jariel’s forehead. The small elf felt heat rise to his face, and his ears turned pink. Tender moments like these were far more intimate to him than most anything the two of them had done together, and those words always made butterflies erupt in his stomach.

  
Suddenly, Bull stood, lifting Jariel with ease. Jariel pressed himself close to the Tal Vashoth’s chest yet again, wrapping his arms around his thick neck to keep close. He pressed his face into the space between Bull’s jaw and throat, letting himself relax against his body. A low chuckle rumbled in Bull’s chest as he gently set Jariel down on the bed and positioned himself over the small elf. His eye held no lust or hunger. No, when Jariel looked into the Iron Bull’s eye he saw a fierce love that made him giddy. Bull bent his face down, pressing his lips gently to Jariel’s forehead, then down the bridge of his nose, and finally on his lips. Without a word, Bull lay down on the bed next to Jariel, pulling him into his arms. Jariel closed his eyes, mind finally rid of those horrible thoughts that had plagued him. He was here now, a man, sleeping next to the person he loved most in the world. He was here, and Bull was beside him. He began to feel a heavy grogginess pull at the edges of his mind as he found his breathing growing steady. He gladly welcomed the idea of sleep, nuzzling into Iron Bull’s chest. “Ar lath ma,” he murmured once more before he was overcome by sleep.


End file.
